Where Hats Take Us
by TradingFashion2
Summary: The Soldier, Pyro, and Demo receive 3 new hats. Adventure follows as the Soldier drags the RED team into one huge mess.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

><p>"Woooo wee, here it comes, boys! Such a magnificent work o' machinery! Why, I could even gaze at 'er all day!" the Engineer said, enraptured.<p>

"Yo, hard hat, 'gaze at it all day' later, 'cause we gotta unpack the stuff now!" the Scout yelled back at him.

"Boy, you just don't understand just how amazin' the engineerin' in this thing is! Fully automated, runnin' offa perpetual motion gadgetry an' whatnot!"

"Oh, man, here he goes again."

* * *

><p>After the RED team had finished taking out the contents of the self-guided, environmentally friendly transportation system most would refer to as the "RED cargo train", they went to view their loot. The Soldier, Pyro, and Demoman congregated into their usual corner of the sewers of Teufort. They opened their packages, immediately cast aside the new weapons, ammunition, and other useful supplies. There would be time for that later, now was time for the hats.<p>

"Let's see what HQ brought us with the supply train this time, boys," the Soldier said coolly, and picked up his new hat. The 3 men crowded around to absorb the glory of the headwear.

**The Salty Dog**

**Get all of a boat captain's respect without the crushing responsibility of actually captaining a boat or the enormous amount of ongoing maintenance a boat requires!**

The American tried the hat on.

"Looks good, lad!" the Demo slurred out only partially drunk (the hat train's an occasion the Scotsman doesn't drink on... too much).

"Mmmmhmm," the Pyro said.

"Well then, what did I get?" asked the Demo, to no one in particular.

With hands shaking (due to slight withdrawal from not having as much alcohol as usual) the Demoman picked up his hat.

**Buccaneer's Bicorne**

**Hoist the mainsail! Buckle those swashes! Get into a swordfight! Pirate captains yell stuff like this all the time, and now you can too.**

Now that the Demo received his hat, he resumed drinking heavily and was already inebriated, lying on the floor. Nonetheless, the other 2 men completely ignored this (as this was usual behavior expected of the black man) and the mumbling fire man brought out his hat.

**The Little Buddy**

**People will think you're in the Navy. But the joke is on them, BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT! That is just one possible benefit of this tricky hat.**

"Gentlemen, let's review. I think HQ has a mission for us, to go into the maritime business, the naval corps."

The Pyro was too busy cooking something furry in the corner and the Demoman too drunk to walk. The Soldier continued, though.

"The mission is clear. We shall do it, no matter the cost!"

The Soldier continued rambling on with his delusions for a good part of the hour; he believed it to be an "inspirational speech" that was "rallying the troops" or something.

Finally, he finished, "And that, boys, is why we are going to sea!"

No one in particular made an objection as they had hardly noticed the Soldier's less-than-sane fit. So, by default, they were going with his "plan".

All 3 of them also missed how the descriptions attached to the headgear presented each made it clear that they were NOT in any sort of maritime occupation, and rather, the hats were to mislead others.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Jim "Jimmy" Jimbo had had a long day at sea.<p>

The men were always rowdy, and he always had to keep them bottled up, but now he would finally get a break.

It was all going behind him, because the boys were going to dock at the shore, take their leave, get extremely drunk, and generally have a good time.

He knew that the officers were supposed to be a good example and he followed that by trying to ignore all the chaos of what happened when the sailors all got to shore, so he sat on the deck, absentmindedly smoking his pipe and trying to look outwardly thoughtful. There was a slight upside to being in charge of a minor, unimportant tanker (even if it was a punishment for fumbling, hard, along with a demotion) and it was that civilians at least weren't as bad as real Navy men when it came to the excesses of leave, though boys were still boys. Things were still a bit more peaceful overall, though.

All his idle thoughts were quickly snapped as a strange trio of men caught his eye. Normally, he would not have given passerbyers a second glance, but something was off about them.

The first man was a muscled, brutish looking man, who had the appearance of an old veteran. His ridiculous hat ruined the image, however.

The second man was colored, and wore a gaudy pirate's tricorne to match. Along with the silly hat he had a funny pegleg, cartoonish cherry bombs, and was even drinking out of a bottle of distinctly pirate-like rum.

The third... man, if he even was, was clad entirely in a fireproof suit and a gas mask of some sort to wear. But he wore on his head a hilariously stereotypical sailor's cap, which spoiled the fireman's getup.

Their fashion statements... were quite... unorthodox.

Jim was surprised when the first man looked up at him and shouted at him.

"WE ARE COMMANDEERING YOUR VESSEL! FOR AMERICA!" he shouted.

"An' bloody Scotland!" the second man managed, drunkeningly.

"Mmmmmpppfffffffffffff!" the masked fire man added, quite incoherently, but with an air of sophistication and intelligence.

"Oh, great, a bunch of lunatics," he thought,"there goes my relaxing evening."

He really didn't know how much worse it was going to get for him.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Setting Sail**

* * *

><p><strong>Molokai, Hawaii<strong>

"Hey, Heavy, try this on!" Scout heard the Engineer say in the distance.

The RED Scout ignored him, kicked off his flip flops, sat back in the side of a palm tree, and popped up a cool can of Bonk to drink. As Lucky Number 42 said, Why should he be out in the Sun when he could be in shade and relaxing? and it was really relaxing, save for the Heavy, Engineer, Sniper, and Medic romping around.

As if on cue to his thoughts the Heavy yelled very loudly,"AH! IS NOT GOOD. VERY, VERY BAD! TAKE LEETLE HAT OFF! IT BURNS!" The Sniper and Engineer response was to double over laughing.

The "hat" was some kind of bear trap the Engineer had figured would be fun to tack onto the Heavy, him being a huge Russian bear and all.

A chorus of angelic voices sang, a bright light shone, and many birds flew straight out of the water.

"I will save you!" the Medic reassured him,"Now come over here, I promise I will heal you!"

The Medic then started to pound away at the device strapped to the Heavy using his Übersaw.

Despite all the noise, the Scout decided it was better than having to fight (though he did miss the Soldier's speeches, the Pyro's majestic mumbles, and the Demo's drink induced stupidity).

Too bad it would all end as soon as that old hag on the megaphone got 'em back. Oh well, it was fun not having to act all tough guyish and just sit back and do nothing for a bit. The Scout tried to just enjoy it, but the Heavy's cries of pain were getting increasingly loud and the other men's laughter and jollyness did the same.

All told, it took the rest of the day to tear the thing of the Heavy's face.

* * *

><p><strong>Earlier<strong>

After everyone had finished opening up their hat packages and going through them, they'd all went away to be alone. The Demo to drink himself asleep as per usual in some random corner of the RED fort; the Soldier to bunk in a room near the Intel; the Spy to stalk off somewhere, perhaps exploring the area; the Medic to the supply room/infirmary in the basement; the Heavy to the kitchen in order to eat endless amounts of food; the Engineer retired to his study to tinker on his machines; the Sniper to his jar filled roost where the heat roasted him (and he had struggled with the BLU Spy many a times); the Scout off to his room strewn with dirty clothing and trash; the Pyro off to somewhere in the desert to burn things without disturbing the rest of the men.

However, this time, in the dark of night, three of the merry men packed their bags, boarded the RED train on its way out, and took it until they got off at the nearest port.

No one missed them until the next day. As everyone tried to rub their eyes of the sleep with their own methods varying from a cup of coffee to a brisk workout to intense eating, the men noticed they did not wake to hear the Soldier either yelling or playing Reeville as per usual. And there did not seem to be any evidence of the Pyro or the Demo in their shenanigans.

It seems that this was not lost on any of the higher ups either, a few minutes before the time scheduled to start the hectic controlled war, the megaphones came on and the Announcer's voice crackled on.

"Attention, there will be a cease-fire today. All hostilities shall cease until farther notice. This does not mean FRIENDSHIP, however."

All the men in the fort (and the opposing blue colored one across from them, perhaps if they knew) began to inquire as to the missing men's whereabouts. In the end, it did not matter as a short while later the Announcer come on, once again, and informed them that they were going to take a vacation.

So they boarded a train, and were all relieved when they came out at a peaceful beach in Hawaii.

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile and later<strong>

The first two men broke down into some shouting match.

"SCOTLAND IS NOT A REAL COUNTRY! YOU ARE AN ENGLISHMEN IN A DRESS!" the first man yelled.

"WOT? I'LL HAVE YE KNOW, SCOTLAND'S MORE REAL OF A COUNTRY THEN YOUR JOKE OF A NATION WILL EVER BE!" the apparent Scotsman retorted.

This was actually genuinely interesting Jimbo now. It looked to be that they would come to blows soon. Fine by him if they didn't spill it over onto his old 4 stacker.

But then the third man intervened.

"Hpppppffaaammppppfafmmmmff!" he screeched, pointing at the dilapidated ship.

"Right, then, men. Do not forget what we are here for!" the first man ordered.

He then produced a metal tube- oh no, it had to be a rocket launcher, and literally fired it at his feet.

Jimbo was fascinated and horrified at the same time. Then he realized that the man was getting closer to him, with a shovel in arm, looking to have malicious intent.

Jimbo's last thoughts were idle, as they throughout most of his life. He realized he'd never get his career back on track.

Then everything went black as the shovel smacked right into his face.

* * *

><p>It took about a half an hour more to seize control of the ship. As soon as the Soldier had pulped Jimbo down into a mush, things got really simple, though.<p>

Several of the crew members still onboard the ship fainted near immediatly.

Several more literally jumped straight off the boat, fearing for their lives.

The remaining ran off to take shelter somewhere in the boat, hoping someone would arrive from outside to take the crazed killer out.

One of the men, the bravest, attempted to tackle the Soldier. The American swatted him aside without breaking his stride.

Then the Soldier proceeded toward the bridge. It turned out, however, that some of the crew not on leave had locked him out.

He began to bang on the steel door. Using a rocket might not of been advisable considering that they were going to take this ship and they wanted it to be in the best condition possible for a bucket of rust dating back to the First World War (though it felt like the beginning of time).

"Open up you maggots! We have you surrounded from this side! You maggot infested... maggots! I will liquidate every one of you maggot scum! And your filthy fly parents! MAGGOTS!"

He then turned and addressed the Demo and the Pyro.

"Come on you maggots! Help me break open this door so I can kill those maggots inside! They are infesting this ship, the maggots!"

The Demo obliged by walking up slowly and bumping into almost everything in sight. The Pyro managed to get up before him.

As soon as the Demo arrived, he launched a sticky at the door. The Soldier and the Pyro were just barely able to jump out of the way before he detonated it.

The Pyro cleared out the inside with his flamethrower.

"Men, I am proud to announce that our new destroyer, the ... ehhh.. USS _Exterminator_! is now setting sail on its maiden voyage. Let's go kill us some maggots!"

The Demomen was busy hoisting the Scottish flag up the flagpole, and the Pyro already went off with his Connoisseur's Cap, likely to "cook" things... as in roasting them until they were completely black, so no one heard the Soldier's speech.

And no one noticed the boat had left the docks until they next day because they were so wasted from leave.

* * *

><p><strong>Later, TF Industries HQ<strong>

The Announcer looked upon the screens, like normal. The problem of keeping BLU from suddenly destroying and overtaking RED now that they were short on men was abated easily enough. But it was only temporary.

So she had ordered all available assets to track down and bring back the missing men, and also cover up the inevitable damage they had already done and wipe all evidence of their existence. It seems a simple task at first, but the Soldier and his 2 sidekicks were, if anything, unpredictable.

On one of the screens she looked, a news report displaying a United States supply vessel, an old, dilapidated ship looking to date back to the days of the first world, had been hijacked by just three men while in harbor.

This caught her attention.

It went on to specific that the three men were each wearing "funny costumes, with especially strange hats".

One of them seemed to be a WW2 veteran and leading the trio, another was a drunken black man, and the last a fully suited man/woman.

That fit the bill. She picked up the phone and made a few calls to the USN, the Fed, and a few assets in place for TF Industries around the west coast of the United States.

A situation like this required precision. She'd have to take it down before it escalated. The bulky United States government, though loyal to her, would only get in the way.

Who knows, though, this might be a little fun, a break from the tedious screaming over the mic.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah, I decided to change the title and description. Better earlier on I guess.

Also, I can't seem to use italics. Maybe I have it enabled this entire time, but I can't disable it and thus everything is in that, so I can't do it for special titles like the USS Exterminator.

EDIT: Well, I can use italics when I type this on my craptop but not the desktop. Don't know if it'll show in the end or not.

SUPER EDIT OF EDITING EDITS: [.com/watch?v=gvdf5n-zI14] Nope. [/url] (If this doesn't make the word 'nope' clickable then fanfiction really sucks, and I won't bother to go and edit it.)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The (Mis)Adventure Begins**

* * *

><p><strong>Some time after the hijacking<strong>

The Soldier breathed in and breathed out the fresh, salty air. This was it. It was all coming together now.

Taking the boat out had been pretty easy. The Coast Guard had troubled them a bit, but the Soldier had blasted their boats away with Mann Co's amazing rocket launcher. After that the Fed had been surprisingly quiet.

Now they were sailing smoothly, and off to Japan to kill some of those evil Japs bothering the nation (the Soldier had difficulty, like in the case of him previously going to Poland to kill Nazis, in recognizing treaties and such) and maybe go down to 'Nam to go kill some hippies who were complaining about war.

As for the boat itself, he had remembered the description and how it "didn't require maintenance." Mann Co sure did work wonders. He was suddenly snapped out of his deep contemplation of the Universe when the Pyro called out to him,"Aaammmmmmmmmffffppppgggg fffaaa fffffffttttttt." Time to eat, of course.

He walked down to the kitchen, grabbed a plate of the Pyro's delicious burnt cookings straight from the pan (demo's), and chowed down. It was better than what he got in Europe bashing those Nazi's heads in by far. Almost a gourmet meal.

He then looked around, and was quite proud of his crew.

The Pyro, so far, was doing a good job of keeping the ship running. Applying nothing other than his fascination for burning things, he kept the ship running by fueling its boilers with random objects, cooking what someone extremely inebriated such as the Demoman or totally insane as the Soldier might enjoy, and doing other essential things. An expert might of noted that, even with this application of fire, the ship was still in horrid condition, a leaky, rickety mess threatening the lives of the men riding it.

The Demoman had already eaten, apparently, and was out back on his task as lookout (despite not having a pair of working eyes). Suddenly, as if on cue to the Soldier's thoughts, he heard the Demo's voice cry out "LAND HO!"

The Soldier went out, pulled out the Direct Hit, popped off the scope, and saw that he wasn't lying. In fact, it was the old team!

* * *

><p>After the men had had their little reunion, things switched to business.<p>

"Yo, solly, this is one sweet ride ya got here, where'd you pick it up, man?" blabbered the Scout, the first to say something.

"Take a seat, men" was all the Soldier said.

He then went through the entire story so far, pausing sometimes to answer questions. It was, however, somewhat different from reality.

"Welp, that's fine and all," the Engineer mused,"I was getting tired o' sittin' round on that island anyway. A lil adventure might be just what I need. This hunk o junk's gonna need some major reworking, though." He then went off to presumably work on improving the ship.

A sharp noise then rang out. "Ya bloody git, get off dat flag!" the Demoman's voice said, actually unslurred.

"Oh please, we are not all alcoholic Scotsman her-" he was cut off as the Demoman smashed a bottle into his head.

"Geh zum Teufel, Demoman, what have you done!" the Medic interrupted.

"Ah was only giving dat sneaky oaf what should of happened a long time ago!"

It did not take a medical expert like the Medic to tell that the Spy was dead, however. He was bleeding profusely from the head and the bottle was imbedded far into his brains.

Not a good way to start out.

* * *

><p><strong>TF Industries<strong>

What they didn't know was how much worse their day was about to get. As the Announcer sat idly, an alert beeped on one of the many screens. She looked down onto it.

The dot was centered on Hawaii, the vacation spot. Apparently, the team had accessed the tools shed with all their items, including the Engineer's tools with which he could easily built a boat to escape from. It was obvious what their plan was.

"The Soldier must be nearby as well," it occured to her. The teams hunting for him along the Pacific coast of the US hadn't expected he would of gotten so far so fast, especially on the piece of junk he took.

It was well, though, perhaps the task at hand was easier now. RED allowed more freedom to its fighters, and there was not anyone watching directly in their base, unlike BLU. That was a downside, but there was, however, a RED military installation built underwater and on an artificial island nearby, filled to the brim with weapons. She gave the orders for them to mobilize their assets and sprint toward the RED vacation paradise.

* * *

><p><strong>Concurrently, at the BLU holding center<strong>

**Guantanamo Bay, Cuba**

The BLU Soldier was furious. There was a war going on out there and they were being kept in the dark by the Powers that Be! They wouldn't let him onto it, and worst of all, the rest of the team had gone soft and were ACTUALLY ACCEPTING THE BULLSHIT. So during this time, he had nothing to do but twiddle his thumbs, seething in rage. However, it lucked upon him that they might be able to do something. After he settled down from his anger, the beginnings of a plan started to formulate in his mind.

The compound they were in consisted of an open courtyard leading to a large steel building. The inside of the building held all the rooms of the staying men, and various things for recreation such as swimming pools, something not yet released to the outside world called "video games", and who-knows-what more distractions to keep them penned up. He'd gone through the thing. The most important detail that caught his eye was a large, reinforced blast door simply labeled **ARMORY **in large bold letters. It was unguarded, and certainly the Engineer could wire his way in. Outside the compound, the courtyard was open. They could go outside for fresh air, but past the gate locking them in, he had spotted a formidable force of soldiers. Once they got their weapons it would be a curb stomp, however. Then, going after that, they could push their way to a building he had caught in the distance. He wasn't sure what it was, so he had asked the Sniper to scope in and tell him (they'd reluctantly let him keep his gun for him to shoot targets off the roof of the holding center) and it turned out to be a dry dock. Once there, they could take the boat out to sea and get back to the war.

"Yes," he thought as he called over everyone for an emergency meeting,"this will do." He might have to nip the story a bit or spill his ideas of how BLU was controlling them tyrannically, but he was going to go for action anyway. Anything, maybe, to convince them to go along with him after the accursed REDs once and for all and then to liberate the masses from BLU's oppression.

He smiled faintly when, at first, he thought that being sent here was a disadvantage. It might turn out quite nicely.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: First Tests**

* * *

><p><strong>The USS <strong>**_Exterminator_**

The uncomfortable silence that had settled on the ship was broken briefly after by the Engineer.

"Hey! boys! We got ou-," he said before looking down at the Spy's dead body.

"Engineer!" the Medic interjected,"you were too late. The Demoman here, the schiessekopf, killed the Spy."

The Demoman yelled something drunkeningly back in response, and the two began arguing.

"Aw, shucks, I ain't even gonna ask. I've had my share of the shenanigans and didn't care to come up to-"

"Yo, hard hat, get on with it!"

"Anyways, as I was going to work on this bucket o' rust, I built a dispenser-"

"Oh yeah, and you never do when I ask you..." the Scout muttered.

The Engineer ignored him and continued,"-and then when I was looking on the screen, I noticed a helluva lot of dots incomin'. They don't seem too friendly to me."

* * *

><p><strong>BLU Holding Center<strong>

All the tenants slowly filed into the room.

The Soldier waited for a brief moment, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"Men, you are gathered here today for a very, very important meeting." Before the Scout could predictably tell him to get on with it, he continued.

"As you know, the authorities decided to move us here recently. But why?" He then proceeded to answer his own rhetorical question.

"They sent us here to keep us off something. Something big. They sent us here because they didn't want us in something."

"And if that isn't enough, they keep us penned inside this facility. There's something going on out there, something we should be doing. Yet they'll keep us in here until we rot, feeding us our own filth back to us and keeping us off!" A few others agreed with him, mostly about the "filth" comment on the food.

The others had come to oblige the Soldier in his insanity, partially because of their collected boredom, but now eyebrows were being raised; things being questioned.

The Soldier then softened up and bit, pulled out some papers, and threw them on to the table.

"This is it. They didn't the war to end."

The others looked on interestingly. The papers detailed how three RED Army members had mysteriously disappeared.

"Well, now, this is certainly a twist, but may I take the liberty of asking where and how you acquired these papers?" the Spy questioned.

The Soldier then told of how he had been exploring the facility and stumbled upon a few offices. Intrigued, he had busted his way inside, and when footsteps were heard approaching, ran off quickly with the most interesting ones.

"Now what do you want leetle team to do?" the Heavy said.

The Soldier went back into his speech mode.

"Men, this is no small discovery. With this, we can finally put an end to the bloody grinding stalemate. Win the war. Crush RED." He paused, then continued.

"The world has been under the heel of the companies for too long. It's time we got a fresh breath. That everyone will taste true American freedoms, know the value of it all. Even BLU has to go. Which is why we shouldn't be sitting on our asses here! We have a job to do!"

The last part caught the rest by surprise, which was best summed up by the Sniper,"Didn't take you for that type Soldier. But we all know you're serious about things, and that this has got to be something. So we'll follow in whatever mad scheme you got."

The Soldier grinned and continued,"That's what I want to hear. But don't get all sappy on me boys, because we haven't even started yet. Now here's how it will go."

The others listened intently to his plan. First, the Engineer would design some fancydohickywhajmacallit machinery and bust his way into the Armory. Next, they'd take the weapons. Spy'd sneak over to the Control Center, disable all the alarms and such, and make sure that, to the goddamn Announcer, it appeared all green lit. Then the Sniper would pick off all the guards in their assorted towers before any would notice communication with each other was offline and other things were going funny. Third, they'd all rush out and make a mad dash through all the BLU Security Personnel blocking their way and fight off to the dry dock, take whatever was in there, and get going. Finally, the Demoman would detonate all the explosives he would wire throughout the base to clear any evidence and possibly convince BLU they were dead. Then they could really get started.

The Soldier happily sat back in his chair after everyone left the room. It was the beginning of the end, and the world would come out free in the end.

Thanks to him.

* * *

><p><strong>USS <em>Exterminator<em>**

As the rest of the crew finished preparing, the Scout looked around and yelled out,"Yo! Where the hell is the fat dude and Mumbles?"

The Engineer answered him,"Ah, shoot, they went down into the ship earlier when we all got on. The Pyro was in that fancy chef's hat of his and the Heavy probably wanted something to eat."

As if to reaffirm the Engineer's statement, an "Om nom nom" rang out from the core of the ship. A gleeful cry answered from the Pyro.

"Forget about them men! We have a situation!" the Soldier practially ordered.

The instant he said that, a few cabin boats along with some larger ones with a few turrets (gunboats) appeared. The men aboard them scrambled, and fired some projectiles over from launchers similiar to the Demoman's, who made a comment on their fine workings.

A few hit the deck, grenades of some sort exploded in smoke and gas.

"Engineer! Move to the controls!" the Sniper shouted as he strapped on a Villian's Veil in an effort to combat the gas.

"Hell, you don't have the tell me, I'm already going there!" he reported back to the Sniper, running off toward the cabin.

The rest of the men were coughing quite violently besides the Medic, who had mounted his Physican's Mask and Blighted Beak on. He then threw off some things to the other men and told them to stuff them on. They obliged, and got up.

"What the hell is this?" the Scout asked.

"Das ist mir furzegal! Just shoot them!"

The Engineer then took the liberty of moving the boat away from the gas.

The Soldier then answered Medic's call now that he had a clear line of sight, rocketed jumped to the closest boat, and aimed right at its cabin. He quickly dispersed of the few men inside with a rocket blast from midair, and landed on top of its cabin and shot the rest down with his shotgun.

"Quite a marvelous work of machinery if I may say so myself, considering the Soldier's unbelievable Mann Co rockets didn't destroy it. Probably been reinforced with some Australiam." the Engineer lamented over the mic, at the controls of the boat, and radioing at his leisure to their personal communication devices (courtesy of TF Industries). "

Yeah, yeah, just shut it and let us do our jobs, Engie! You can analyze all you want to later!"

While he was saying this, the Scout had used his arcane double jump to land right into the biggest enemy boat right by, actually a relatively small (by naval terms) gunboat, specifically an old PT boat built for the Pacific War against the Japanese and then requisitioned by RED to destroy anyone that might luck upon their naval anchorage by Hawaii.

"Hey, a little heads up here, but I think they aren't actually trying to kill us!" A few rubber bullets touched off on the Scout.

"What the hell did I just say, get it through your thick skull, hard hat!" The Scout smashed his bat into a man's head.

The Scout shot one of the men straight in the chest with his scattergun. Some of the pellets hit a few other men nearby, wounding them.

"Alright, I just thought..." his voice trailed off.

The Scout finished those other men off with two more shots and a pistol round to the chest of the last one. He didn't kill one of them all the way though, and the wounded man got up behind him and raised a cudgel dramatically as the Scout was taunting.

The Sniper saved him with a shot right to the medulla oblongata[1]. The man's cudgel still hit the Scout, but only on the leg now, and with less force.

"Thanks, Snipes!" The Scout was either on too much adrenaline to notice the pain or truly didn't care.

"Ya prancing show ponies," was all Sniper muttered back. He was in the zone and his Bloke's Bucket Hat reflected that, and their status at sea.

The rest of the team was in it too. Within a few moments, the other cabin boats and gunboat were all down. Their brief moment of elation ended as soon as some more boats appeared on the horizon, followed by a helicopter.

* * *

><p><strong>TF Industries<strong>

The Announcer tapped her nails impatiently as the machine faxed over the report.

It finished, and she snatched it up greedily. Then she began to read.

She skimmed through it, and then caught an important fact.

"The RED Spy... dead, is he?" she wondered to herself, and then the respawn system dawned on her mind.

"Well, that will not do at all. He will not get out so easily."

She called Ms. Pauling and told her to attend to anything that might warrant action.

Within thirty minutes, she had departed on a plane for Roswell, New Mexico, the closest location to Teufort with an airport. She quietly cursed herself for not thinking of it earlier, and hoped the RED Spy was still in the process of Respawn.

* * *

><p>AN: Meh, I got bored of waiting for the other guy to continue the work on the hat for Steam workshop, decided to write another chapter. Meh, it's President's Day in the States and I had figured I was going to waste time anyway.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Escape**

* * *

><p><strong>USS <em>Exterminator<em>**

The battle continued intensely out in the bay. More RED naval ships had arrived to harry the team as the boat attempted to maneuver away under the Engineer's controls.

The Soldier took out the enemy boats as fast as he could with his rocket launcher. The Scout boarded other boats and scattered the enemies aboard with his gun. All this time the Sniper would pick off important targets, like helicopter pilots flying in. The Medic would busy his medigun keeping the Soldier in good health from his rocket jumps. The Demoman was extremely drunk and thus at his finest blowing away enemies with his grenades and stickies.

A boat ran up along the side of the slower moving Exterminator and the men peppered the deck with rubber bullets, darts, and other (non)lethal objects, including a stun grenade which hit the Demoman square on. It might of worked if the Medic and Sniper weren't looking and that the Demoman didn't need his vision.

"You bunch of squeakin', two faced rats!" the Sniper insulted as he lobbed a can of jarate in to their boat. A haphazard grenade (from Demoman's blind yet enhanced firing) fell down on the men afterwards, gibbing them sky high.

"A remarkable shot," the Medic granted the Demoman in spite of his anger.

The fight went on relatively silently after that incident save for Sniper's angry unprofessional screams and Demo's drunk slurs, (though there were still the explosions and gunfire) as none of the other boats were eager to attempt such a daring attack.

Suddenly the mics perked up as the Engineer began to speak, and, remarkably, wasn't cut off by the tired Scout.

"We sure gave em a kick! They're running fast as they can with their tails tucked right between their legs! Woohoo!"

But the Engineer's voice came on again before the men could start cheering, this time much more somber.

"Hang on though, something mean's showing up on the _Dispenseradar_."

To answer the Engineer, a huge yet silent helicopter showed up. Labeled on the side in massive and clear were the letters _XM Flying Fortress_(1).

"It really means business, alright!" the Engineer said nervously as he tried to speed the boat away as fast as he could.

The Soldier began firing a rain of rockets upwards, the Sniper frantically searched for a cockpit to shoot into, and the Demoman took a long swig from his bottle.

The Demoman then looked up and spoke into his mic.

Through a slur of drunken gibberish, the Demo iterated his plan. "Scoot, boyo, take these explosives up your arse and kablooie dat fancy flyin' fingy!" (Or at least as the Engineer tried to translate for them on this one)

It was completely insane. This meant the team was bound to do it.

He emptied his sticky launcher at Scout's feet, gave him some explosives, and approximated the flight toward the Flying Fortress.

Scout, for his part, strapped on his Bombing Run and drank from a can of Bonk! Atomic Punch (and hoped it wasn't Crit a Cola).

The Demoman detonated it and Scout flew up into the air.

"YEAH! THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! I'M FLYING!" the Scout screamed triumphantly.

* * *

><p><strong>BLU Holding Center<strong>

The Soldier swore vigorously under his breath. The Sniper had just told him that the Administration, in their infinite wisdom, needed to call him out of the compound for some reason within 20 hours.

This had almost ruined the plan; it had to be sped up manyfold. The Engineer hadn't really finished on his cutting tool to go through the thick doors so the Demoman had taken it, and with his drunken mastery, converted it somehow into an explosive. Even himself, as an expert with rocketery and explosive weaponry, could not hope to ever do that (nor could the Demo ever do it sober for that matter as well).

Unfortunately, the bomb did not work well on the thick blast doors guarding the Armory. All hope seemed to be lost when he managed to pick it up again on a furious walk outside to calm his nerves. He noticed that, though the Armory's doors were quite indestructible, the area around it was just the normal construct of the rest of building. Thus they could "outflank" the doors. He had come back, told the Engineer to get moving again, and since he always kept blueprints, drawings, and other assorted things when planning items, another would come out soon.

In the meantime, the Spy had to move foward with his segment. From the freezer, he'd torn out an icicle and decided to go foward with his plan. What use was he if couldn't sneak without his precious disguise or cloak?

Now, however, the Soldier had to convince the Scout of something important. He called the Sniper, Medic, and Heavy over. They walked over to the Scout, who was busy lounging around and watching a baseball match on the tube.

"Scout!" the Sniper said.

"Yeah, what up? Hey, why you guys all around?"

"This is very important, Fraulein, so listen." Before the Scout could comment back about being manly and all, the Soldier began.

"Throughout history there have been brave, honorable soldiers that have taken up the sword. There are those even more worthy, better than even those men. As Sun Tzu taught, they are absolutely vital to war (2)."

"Whoa, wait, where're you going with this?" Scout asked nervously, indicating he knew exactly how it was going to go.

"Son, I'm afraid you'll have to stay behind. You will very brave for this, many medals will awarded! You are up to the task, needed to do this. Stay behind, sabotage enemy efforts to find us, and possibly provide a fall back or continue the fight should, God forbid, we lose."

The Scout had a distant, abstract view on his face.

"Hey, no worries!" Sniper said.

"Scout, you know we need funding. Food to keep us in good health, ammunition for our guns. You are doing the most important job," the Medic said, trying to assure him and continued,"the Spy cannot do this because, well, eh... we need him for our plans in Washington and beyond. We are all not nearly as good Spitzel as him, no?"

"Da, leetle Scout will be CREDIT TO TEAM!"

The Scout looked back at the lot of them, and then said in his best tough guy voice,"Eh, don't feel sorry for me guys. We'll get back together after this, I'm mostly just mad at ya guys for leavin' me back. But hey, it's all because I'm needed, huh?"

The men, seeing Scout return to his cocky self, smiled around. Then the Soldier, before Scout could ask any details, threw him into a briefing.

"Scout, this will be a very dangerous assignment! You will be behind enemy lines!

The Soldier continued with the details and finished up.

"You guys are insane, you know that?" Scout smiled.

"Ja."

"Yes."

"Da."

Medic threw him his El Jefe and told him,"Viel Erflog!"

And good luck he was going to need.

* * *

><p><strong>Above the USS <em>Exterminator<em>, aboard the (XM) _Flying Fortress_**

"Aw, screw my luck," the Scout thought before he screamed at the top of his lungs,"I AIN'T GONNA MAKE IT!"

The Soldier, thinking quickly, blasted a rocket up at him, boosting him upward onto the top of the Flying Fortress.

Scout looked around on the top of the thing. Relatively flat with a little bumps here and there. Some ladders, railing, and footholds. Then he began recklessly charging around, wiring explosives here and there.

Suddenly one of the doors popped open, and a few soldiers climbed out. They pulled out a fire hose.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

He dodged the spray of water with his unnatural speed and continued wiring the bombs. But as he looked around him, he could see more and more of the RED men coming out of the woodwork, determined to wack him.

* * *

><p><strong>Below, on the USS Exterminator<strong>

The helicopter (if the behemoth could even still be called such a thing) hovered above the USS Exterminator, despite the tiny 4 stack destroyer's efforts to flee. With some secret advanced RED technology of some sort, they pulled it to a stop.

Suddenly the bottom of the monsterosity opened up, and soldiers began climbing down toward the boat on steel ladders.

"PREPARE TO REPEL BOARDERS!" the Sniper yelled the famous navy mantra, only half jokingly.

The Sniper answered his own call, whipped out his SMG, and gave the nearest men a lead shower. The Medic took his Medigun, flipped the switch to Kritz, and charged it on the Demoman.

The drunken Scot pirate fired off several stickies into the air (and to the relief of his teammates) and detonated them, flying gibblets all about the boat. But then another wave of men started to descend down, and this time the Medic didn't have an Uber saved up.

* * *

><p><strong>BLU Holding Center<strong>

The Spy had had a long day. He had traveled all the way to Havana, all the while sticking to the shadows, and then done a messy job killing Che Guevara. Still admirable, taking into account his tight time schedule and ad hoc on-the-go planning for killing the legendary Cuban revolutionary.

Then he had traveled on the way back to the BLU facility. Getting inside again was, all things considered, probably harder then disposing of Che. BLU and RED were no joke when it came to secrecy and security. They had to, all at the same time, wage perpetual war against a powerful enemy, hide it from the world at large, and keep the United States and the Soviet Union under their thumbs. Everything followed after.

Shaking aside those thoughts, the Spy had gone back to find the BLU team in a hurry. The Sniper was being recalled by the brilliant bureaucracy and brass of the Builder's League.

Now he had to go ahead with side of the plan. With his Spycicle in hand, he made his way out into the heat of the Cuban summer.

As soon as he came out he could feel the icicle starting to melt in his hands. He took a cigarette out, calmly smoked it, and walked off toward the gate.

The man in the watchtower closest was watching him. Spy, with his normal air of nonchalance, made as if he had come out simply for a smoke.

The icicle was starting to melt, fast, and he could feel the chilly puddle start to form in his hands. "Come on, you simpleton," the Spy thought to himself.

He began to get bored, and turned away, back into his book. The Spy, with the mastery of many years spent, undid the gate and slipped through, soft as a kiss. He closed it back up, and didn't even look back.

Within four minutes the whole of the personnel in the Control Center was dead, and no one the wiser as to it. Then the Sniper set to work as the Spy went off to ready the docks for his colleagues' arrival.

* * *

><p>The Sniper picked off the men in the watchtowers carefully, with marks showing years at his art. While he did this, the Demoman drunkeningly wandered over, blew open the Armory from its vulnerable area (no one heard as everyone in an earshot was shot) and the BLU team tore through it for their loot. Then all hell broke loose as a concentrated charge of crazed killers poured out from the building, screaming their assorted war cries.<p>

"SCHNELL, SCHNELL, SCHNELL! DUMMKOPFS, MOVE!"

"FREEEEEEEDOM!"

"RUN, COWARDS!"

"YIPPEE KI YAY KI YO!"

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMFFFFFFAMMMAM MMMMAAAAaaaaAAAFFFNNNNNNIIII!"

"KILL ALL THEM, MATES!"

The men in the watchtowers remaining attempted to sound the alarm throughout the US base forced on Cuban soil, but they couldn't, partially due to the communications being cut, and partially due to the metal forcibly put into their bodies.

But the guards in the last BLU Security checkpoint near the main gate saw them coming. They pulled out their guns, and excersized their rights to live fire (provided that Respawn had been installed into the compound).

It did not deter the madmen charging at them. With the power of thousands of lives spent and honed in the fine skills of killing, they barely slowly the BLU team down. In fact, the Heavy and Pyro did not get to contribute much because the Demoman and Soldier had already blown the lot of the men sky high and the Sniper finished off the rest with a few clean headshots.

They were busting out, and whoever was gonna be in their way had better watch out.

Within a minute or so, they had made it to the dry dock. The Spy sat, smoking a long French cigarette. He generically looked down at his watch, took another long drag, and asked them what had taken so long. Sniper threw him his assorted gear, like his Balisong (3).

Then the men took to the boat, a fancy one at that, and the Soldier proceeded to flood the dry dock (in order to float the boat out) by destroying part of the building with his rocket launcher. They went their merry way out.

The team was hardly aware that, close into the future, the facility would be rebuilt and become infamous for its violations of the Geneva Convention and basic human rights.

* * *

><p>Notes<p>

(1): XM is Experimental.

(2): Nope, I don't think Sun Tzu actually said that. Just Soldier being delusional as usual.

(3): Butterfly knife.


	6. Chapter 5

**Part I**

**Beginning of the End**

* * *

><p><strong>"For it must be cried out, at a time when some have the audacity to neo-evangelize in the name of the ideal of a liberal democracy that has finally realized itself as the ideal of human history: never have violence, inequality, exclusion, famine, and thus economic oppression affected as many human beings in the history of the earth and of humanity. Instead of singing the advent of the ideal of liberal democracy and of the capitalist market in the euphoria of the end of history, instead of celebrating the 'end of ideologies' and the end of the great emancipatory discourses, let us never neglect this obvious macroscopic fact, made up of innumerable singular sites of suffering: no degree of progress allows one to ignore that never before, in absolute figures, have so many men, women and children been subjugated, starved or exterminated on the Earth."<strong>

**-Jacques Derrida, _**Spectres de Marx: l'état de la dette, le travail du deuil et la nouvelle Internationale.**_ **(1)

**"Repression will provoke rebellion."**

**-Hugh Williamson**

**"A little rebellion is a good thing."**

**-Thomas Jefferson.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Insurrection in Earnest<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>BLU Holding Center<strong>

Scout ran quickly outside in the chaos of the BLU departure. After he'd reached a safe distance off and into the treeline and jungle near the secret BLU facility attached to the US naval base, he slowed to catch his breath. His heart was beating like a drum, but he tried to calm himself. Then he sat on a stump, and opened up the various files and "briefs" the team'd given him. He tore open a meal package he'd thought to take at the last moment and began to eat.

He watched as the base was enveloped with a massive explosion set off by the Demoman. Scout had to admire the Demo's ability to quickly assemble so many high grade explosives out of nearly nothing and in such a short amount of time. It'd been hell for him to get those things in place and out of the center before the raging Demoman blew it up though, making the sight all the better. But pretty soon the garrison at the naval base would be arriving soon, obviously seeing the humongous fireball so close to them, so he couldn't stick so close.

So after he traveled off into the distance a bit more, he opened up the briefs and looked into it.

* * *

><p><strong>SCOUT'S BRIEFING, IN BRIEF<strong>

**CONTENTS**

**OVERVIEW... Page 1-3**

**BRIEF HISTORY OF CUBA... ****Page 3-7**

**BLU and RED... Page 7-15**

**YOUR MISSION... ****Page 15-16**

**CHE GUEVARA... Page 16-18**

**PHILOSOPHY AND LANGUAGE... Page 18-21**

**MISCELLANEOUS... Page 21-24**

"Well," the Scout sighed,"I better start reading."

Then he turned to the first page and began to read.

* * *

><p><strong>On the deck of the USS<em> Exterminator<em>**

The men came down quickly, faster than those defenders had expected. Sniper, with his fast reflexes, quickly pulled out his Kukri and embedded it into the first man down.

However, the knife caught inside his body. The next man then raised a baton with fearsome electric wiring throughout, and prepared to strike the Australian.

The Demoman saved him with one of his inhumanly fast charges, killing the man on impact and sending him flying off into the sea. Then the Sniper tore out the Kukri of the body of the first and turned to face the other men, who were approaching warily.

Then they disappeared with a bang as the Soldier came in from above, dispersing a Mann Co standard rocket down in their face. The boat staggered from the impact but the beam from the 'copter up in the sky seemingly prevented the bulk of the damage.

Another wave of goons started down off to the boat below, but were shot dead before that.

The Flying Fortress's crew in the bridge noticed this. At this moment they decided to battle test the new XM Teleporter, despite its danger of mangling the men or beaming them out wrong.

As the RED mercs began to materalize around the opposing RED team on the boat, everyone knew they were in for one hell of a fight.

* * *

><p><strong>Above the USS <em>Exterminator<em>, aboard the _Flying Fortress_**

The captain looked down at the battle below from the bridge. He saw his men get mowed up going down. Other than that whoever was piloting the boat was also trying to hack into his controls.

"These men are dangerous," he thought.

Then he authorized the risky and untested Teleporter system.

"How sad that, in one of their first actions, should this happen to my men."

Turning off from that, he directed his attention to the saboteur. The man above was quite a speedster; no one had gotten him yet. He called up his bomb techs and ordered them up, and the rest of the men out to cover them while they took out the explosives. If he couldn't grab him the regular way, he'd have to draw him in.

* * *

><p><strong>Scout, on top of the <em>Flying Fortress<em>**

Scout panted as he ran across the top of the Fortress. He slowed down as he planted a bomb, noticing that the men had withdrawn with their fire hoses. Then the Engineer spoke up on the mic.

"SCOUT, DEMOMAN SAYS THEY'RE TAKING THE BOMBS OUT! STOP 'EM BEFORE YOU DO ANYTHIN' ELSE!"

"Figures," Scout complained,"that I can never catch a break."

He strapped on his Planeswalker Goggles and looked around. He sighted several teams of men scrambling around and went toward the closest one.

Before they were able to spot him, he was able to get a shot off with his scattergun. He jumped over a railing in the way, slide down a ramp, and discharged it on the men.

It instantly killed one of the three, and greviously wounded the other two. Another shot put them out of their misery.

But some soldiers close by heard the action and Scout felt several rubber bullets fly past him. He was too fast to catch.

As soon as he thought this, however, a shotgun went off and rubber pellets and balls slammed him hard, knocking his wind out just as he was scooting past.

However, Scout was used to this sensation from growing up on the hard streets, fighting BLU, and running all the time. He'd grown use to the feeling, no matter how hard it was. Pain wasn't much to him, and he wasn't even one of the more hardcore members of the grizzled RED team. Putting on a tough guy act, he shook off the daze like a Sandman ball, got his diaphragm working through sheer willpower, and returned the favor with a full face of Mann Co's finest scattergun. The entire time rubber bullets bounced painfully off him and he winced a bit, but otherwise was fine.

Then, without stopping for respite, he turned off to eliminate the next group before they could defuse the explosives. But as he looked around, more and more soldiers were closing in on him, intent on shooting him down.

* * *

><p><strong>Near Guantanamo Bay, Cuba<strong>

Scout had skimmed through the book mostly. He was wondering what to do, so he had turned to the last section, Miscellaneous. All the while he had to dodge US military personnel.

He had flipped through its contents, and the Soldier had thought of this.

Which is to say that he simply told the Scout to run off to the nearest road and hijack a vehicle. Once inside the Engineer had prepared a "GPS" for Scout to use. It was a device of some sort that tapped into BLU and RED orbiting satellites secretly for navigation or something like that. He didn't care to know the details.

So he went to the nearest road, waiting. Then a truck, clearly USN and loaded with supplies, drove past. Scout frankly didn't care at this point, ran up behind the truck, discharged several rounds into the drivers' compartment, and took the vehicle before anyone knew what the hell was going on.

As soon as he got in he attached the GPS and plotted it for Havana. It worked for several minutes before "syncing" with the truck and satellites. Then it began to drive off on its own.

After a little bit sleep clubbed him in the head. He hadn't realized how tiring his ordeal had been.

* * *

><p><strong>Above the USS <em>Exterminator<em>, aboard the _Flying Fortress_**

Scout maneuvered over to near the engines and plopped the last bomb down. It'd taken a little bit, but he'd prevented the other bombs from being disabled. All the while he was being shot at, but with an iron will he shook it all off and stoically went through whatever didn't miss him. Sometimes he would slow down and pepper the men chasing him, usually causing them to back off a bit. So this way they kept up with the game of cat and mouse. But Scout had finished it. He yelled into his mic to the team that it was done. "Actually a bit easier than I thought it would be," he muttered. Then he jumped off the side of the boat and took the plunge toward the sea.

"Yeah, ya see that!" the Scout screamed as he fell fast. Explosions ripped through the RED machine behind him. Miraculously, none of them landed on the _Exterminator_. With their command ship destroyed, the mercs fighting the REDs unanimously decided that they'd better take their chances swimming and caught on debris from the wrecked helicopter to escape. The tired RED team let them get away.

Scout double jumped right before he impacted, slowing him to a safe speed, and then landed onto the boat. Just then the Heavy climbed aboard with the Pyro trailing behind him.

He asked,"What was noise?"

"Screw you fatass, we really could of used your help there!"

After that Scout blacked out; his adrenaline rush was out.

* * *

><p><strong>TF Industries<strong>

Miss Pauling rubbed her temples, exhausted. She'd had a long day dealing with all the problems the Announcer usually handled. Her biggest problem was that the facility at Guantanamo had gone up in flames. She'd had to deal to with covering it up, both from the US government, general knowledge, and especially the Builders' League. But then what would she do? Blutarch would want them back someday. And it'd be her job until her boss came back. Trouble would just keep coming out of the crop; it'd be terrible.

Then one of the screens in front of her (she probably needed stronger glasses now as well) informed her that the REDs had destroyed the task force thrown at them.

Following instructions by the Announcer, Miss Pauling authorized the company men to use deadly force and sort it out later. War Plan Orange (2), for rebellious employees: be it strike, protest, or armed conflict.

She wondered how much longer this would on, and what had become of the BLUs.

* * *

><p><strong>BLU crew on the boat<strong>

The BLU team had taken a fine boat for their journey. It was an experimental, top class Australium enhanced wonder of BLU corp technology and probably capable of singlehandedly forcing most countries in the world to capitulate to its fearsome firepower.

It was unassuming at first glance. Most navy men would identify it in the future years when it was slated to be released as the Type 702 Berlin class replenishment vessel, a simple supply cruiser. But BLU had furnished it with potent amounts of Australium: armor, factories, and weapons to its brim: surface-to-air missiles, heavy machine guns, small but disproportionately devasating cannons, torpedoes, and even small arms all over. Not only that but it was so advanced and powerful that, when the Engineer went to tinker on it, he himself had a difficult time figuring out even how to pilot the damn thing. So, naturally, they named it the _Unfathomable._

But that would be tested soon. The BLU team had been cut off from the world and inside their little bubble for a long time fighting the REDs throughout Teufort and several other key locations. Unknowingly, they had stumbled into a very dangerous patch of water off the coast of the States in their path to Washington. An area that had become infamous and highly speculated upon.

The Bermuda Triangle.

* * *

><p>Notes<p>

(1): Specters of Marx: The State of the Debt, the Work of Mourning, and the New International.

(2): This is a reference to something. If you can figure it out before the next chapter, virtual cookie to you ;).

* * *

><p>AN: Went back and edited some stuff. Nothing too major, just mainly when I'd forget some things here and there.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Cheapening Life**

* * *

><p><strong>USS Exterminator<strong>

"He'll be fine," the Medic reported.

The rest of the team let out a collective sigh that they hadn't really known they'd been holding in.

"I was worried for moment. Thought leetle man was hurt bad!" Heavy chortled.

"Well then, men, now that we've addressed this issue, I suppose we should get around to the Spy."

* * *

><p>The funeral was quite awkward. No one had particularly wanted to attend but they all did so out of respect for their deceased colleague.<p>

The Medic was up doing the normal rites and such. He wasn't much of a religious man, especially after all he'd seen, but he was the closest thing the band of misfits had. He tried to sell it off that the Spy was a great man in his ways or something, but no one in the team sincerely thought so.

"Now, would anyone want to speak for the Spy?"

Ironically, the Pyro went up first. He spoke inspirationally, or it least it would of if he could of talked in a language the others could understand.

"Hudda hudda faaa mmmhmm la fudda mmpppfff aaaammmp ttttttoooo aaaarrrr eeeeffffff. Eeeefffff fffffaaa fooooeee iiiiiinnnn..."

After what seemed like years, he stopped.

The Medic asked again, and when no one was looking to get up he started to collect his things. But the Soldier decided to honor him next.

"Men, I know we all did not like the Spy. He was a backstabbing, cowardly, sneaking, evil, incompetent, unprofessional, blood soaked, stupid French-." He cleared his throat. "Ermm, I got a little off track there. But anyway, what really matters is not the way he was, what really, the ummm... things he did!" Sniper raised his eyebrow in question.

"You see men, what I'm really just trying to say is that, well, the Spy wasn't the best Frenchman to be around. But he was professional, clean, he played smart, fought for an honorable cause, was a good man!" Soldier completely ignored how those contradicted with his previous statements, and continued,"We all may have had our differences with him. But we should give him our full honors and respect. And complete the mission as well. It's what he would of wanted."

The others felt increasingly strange, and the Soldier hadn't helped. The Demoman drunkeningly came up and joined the rest of the crew and drunkeningly slurred some (maybe) well intentioned insults at the Spy.

Him and the Medic began arguing. Then, before it got any worse, they finished up the insulting debauchery of a funeral with a full burial at sea.

"Bon voyage, crouton!" the Soldier good heartily attempted to say.

More arguments erupted.

* * *

><p><strong>Area 51<strong>

Several men met in the dark room with poor lighting. They sat around and waited until the last one would appear.

He did, and they squinted in response when the bright light of the hallway poured in. "Sorry folks," he muttered.

No one said anything in response. He continued on then,"Okay, let's get down to business, alright? What've you got for me?"  
>The others looked around, and one of them dropped the man the envelope.<p>

The President perused through it for a few minutes before looking up.

One of the men began to speak.

"Mr. President, there has been an attack on Guantanamo Bay."

Kennedy noted the lack of "sirs" and his overall tone and composition lacking nervousness, or any emotion for that matter, while speaking to one of the most powerful men in the world.

"Go on."

"This area was the most heavily fortified and secretive detachment of the base. It was a classified compound capable of withstanding everything up to direct nuclear attacks and there for the most dangerous and engimatic testing purposes." Another man spoke up.

"We had not known of its destruction until recently. There is, however, very troubling news. Housed inside the facility were extremely dangerous experimental weapons. The force searched through and found nothing but traces. We know that someone must of taken things from the facility, as one of the building's surviving logs shows things being withdrawn, in particular a naval ship of some sort."

"Anything otherwise and the men would of been reduced to ash," one of the unknown men said in a sadistic manner, almost as if he was joking.

The other man continued on.

"This is not the troubling part though, Mr. President. Some one tried to cover it up, and did it well. We learned recently, and disturbingly not at our own power, that the attack was pulled off by an anti governmental force of Cuban rebels currently engaged against Castro in the "War against the Bandits." This just fell into our hands. There is yet to be any other information to back this up, and we highly doubt that the revolutionaries would have the power, knowledge, or many other factors to pull it off. This means the Cuban government themselves must of did it then. They knew of it from spies inside the base. But for them to pull it off is questionable as well. And we have reason to suspect that someone wanted us to get our hands on the documents that have provided us with our current information. This has happened before, but we merely chalked it up to inconsistencies on our own or something similiar. Now it's time for us to really go into it."

Another man spoke up, almost as if all the men had rehearsed this beforehand. Kennedy was beginning to question the group, with their extreme secretiveness and all.

"We are here today on this. Some people in the military are calling foward actions to be taken on this attack. They're even threatening to go public with it, the few who know, in order to convince the public for a campaign against Cuba. That would mesh well, considering we already have Operation Northwoods and Mongoose planned just for a p.r. plan to execute war. So we'll have to retaliate. We plan to set off a munitions ship in dock in Havana just to satisfy the hounds. That's aside from this though. We're here to find out exactly what's going. An internal mole hunt is needed and an intensive search for the real culprit. You'll need to approve of this."

The President was slightly out of it, but he went and signed it.

"I know it's hard to understand, Mr. President. But it's vital for our nation's security to uncover this. If someone was able to get one up on us in esponiage and deceiving, everything may be lost."

* * *

><p><strong>The<strong> **SS Unfathomable**

The ship continued cruising silently along. The Engineer slept cozily in the pilothouse, tired from a day of going over the boat. Some minor alerts and beeps woke him up from his snoring.

He sucked in a breath and groggily returned to consciousness.

"Oh," he said..."Land. And that's... not supposed to be there." He called for the rest of the men to meet on the deck.

"Engineer! This better be important and involve de-maggotifying an area. Otherwise, I need my resting."

"Alright, alright hold your horses. It is good. We're nearing an island, and according to my "fancy techno gear", it shouldn't be there."

"Ah, an uncharted island, Kamerad! How exciting! Sehr gut, may we go back to sleep now?"

"No, there's something off about it. It's... just not right. All the gear is going off and such now that we've gotten close to it. The compass is fried, the time goin' all haywire, I don't got a good feeling."

"So you're saying we're lost now! Oh, screw it!"

"Well, why don't we just go into leetle island? Then things will be good."

"Wot? Oh, yah! Wot the Heevy said!" the Demo then started sleeping softly. So the Engineer set the boat's course toward the unnatural island on the radar.

The various crew members then went off to gather their weapons. The Engineer, particularly nervy, tore off his glove to reveal the Gunslinger, mounted on his Googly Gazer, and loaded his shotgun up. He was afraid he was gonna need it.

* * *

><p><strong>BLU Scout<strong>

Scout came out of his sleep with a start. He looked around, vaguely remembering how he'd gotten on to the truck. "Ugh..." he groaned, before downing a can of Crit a Cola to get him up and running.

Then he got looked to the GPS. Still some time to Havana. He killed it reading through a bit of the briefs. Then he put it down, jittering about the prospect of testing out his Spanish (fairly weak, instilled through high school and similarly) and French (okayish, he had some education in it from the Spy sometimes), along with his acting skills.

But he had no choice to otherwise do anything really. So when the truck neared a few miles to the city, he got off, poured some of the fuel out, and dropped a match from his matchbox in his bag on to it as well as taking out some paint from his Mann Co backpack. He applied it to himself, trying best to make his clothes and such look like Guevara's. After a bit, he started to run off toward the city. (1)

* * *

><p><strong>Havana, Cuba<strong>

The Cuban revoluntionary cum socialist dictator walked along calmly. He was on his way to his office building to work on the crap politics, as usual. Ernesto (2) had been missing recently, but he figured that he'd show up again, back from helping some poor women struggle against poverty or some waste of time thing like that. As he neared a corner, he readied his trusty AK. He had seen a man's head pop up from around there. The CIA was really getting medicore in their attempts to get at him.

He stopped just in front of the alley, waiting. Some time passed and the man's head popped out, checking- he let off a round into his face, and, before the rest of those thugs could react, pushed his gun into the alleyway and sprayed off the rest of the magazine. He stepped gingerly past the dead body of the first man, and didn't even bother to look back.

Then, as he came into the INRA building for his usual political crap about land reforms and such, he sighted Ernesto.

* * *

><p>"Che, Ernesto! Where have you been?"<p>

Ernesto seemed different some how... before Castro could figure it out, Che answered back.

"Ah, you know... the usual..." he said, almost as if asking a question.

Castro then waited for Che to start up somehow about how the Soviet Union wasn't really adhering to communism and socialism, and how he went and helped some poor people. Then he'd obviously go on again about some helpful national program like getting rid of money or something ridiculous.

Sure enough, Che did. But this time it sounded like he was reading from a script, and didn't really believe in what he was saying.

"So... when I was away assisting the disadvantaged, it hit me that we can have more ways to become a more perfect society... and all. You know, less about us selling out to our finances, more about feeling more inneringly rewarded, so we can achieve our full human condition."

Castro was genuinely beginning to start to question Ernesto. It seemed like he was acting, doing it over the top. But he was probably just going through of his "things" again.

"Oh, and we should get nukes from the Union!"

Before he could really start to wonder or even object, an explosion set off in the docks nearby. They rushed outside to get to the commotion. A ship had blown in the harbor.

It was during these confused hours that acclaimed "Guerrillero Heroico" photo was taken, with Scout's confused face plastered right on it, looking very distant not thoughtful, but rather more like "what is going on?"

This cemented in the new Che. Castro just figured to drop it mostly after that.

* * *

><p>Notes<p>

(1): And he hides the bag... in his pants/ in itself. Don't question it ._.

(2): Che Guevara's first name.

(0): Last week's reference was to America's planned invasion of Canada in case of war with the British Empire. NO COOKIES FOOOOOOOOOR YOU.

* * *

><p>AN: So far everything has been going pretty well with historical events. From here on out, it's going to diverge from real life history. Just couldn't make it fit the way I wanted the story to go. ._. Though no one was even noticing that kind of stuff anyway.


End file.
